A Flower for Lord Voldemort
by jade22882
Summary: Sometimes romance blooms between some very odd people. Thus is the case between Petunia and Lord Voldemort. Learn of the past that entertwines them and the cause of their supposed hatred of the Potter boy.
1. Default Chapter

He kissed her. Hot. Powerful. Hungry. But he never allowed it to end there. No. He was too demanding for that. Wanted too much from her to feel the gentle pushing against his chest that said "maybe another night." In the end he would roll off her to put his clothes on still wearing the power and control he had entered her bed with. It made her shiver and pull the sheet closer under her chin. But even then, when she knew she could never be a part of his life, she couldn't resist him. Or his power. God forbid something happened to turn him into a dark wizard. 

***********

Petunia sat up like a rod in bed. Soaking wet from a night of dreams. Grasping the covers under her chin like she had so many years ago. And with a sob stuck in her throat. She buried her face in her bony hands and started to cry uncontrollable. 

"Oh Tom," she whispered finally pulling herself together. She shivered and pulled herself out ofbed. She had to have breakfast made before Dudly's screams woke the neighbors and Vernon's face turned purple with rage. 

She hated them both. No she didn't. She was normal. Thankyouverymuch. No shame in that. Not everyone has to be strange or a detestable wizard to be happy. She would show them, she promised herself as she straightened her blouse and put on her face. And she would start with Harry Potter; the boy that should have been hers.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Why do you insist on being a little maggot!" Vernon spat in Harry's face. Harry looked down at the floor and bit down on his tongue to control his own rage at the latest form of injustice while Uncle Vernon went off on another one of his purple faced rants.

What would he care that his little Dudley had looked longingly at Harry's eggs after gobbling down his own and Harry hadn't given in to his wandering fork. Would Uncle Vernon yell atDudley if he knew that DUDLEY was the one who had 'accidentally' knocked them off the table and onto his imitation leather shoes? Probably not. What a great way to start his last day at home. 

He sighed longingly, wishing he was back in his room waiting for Hedwig to return with his reply from the Weasleys. They were owling him the time they would arrive but at this moment he just wished they would apparate and throw the Dursleys for another loop. Let's see that smug look on Dudley's fat face and the self righteous anger of his Uncle Vernon stay in place if the Weasleys just suddenly plopped down at the breakfast table. His Aunt Petunia would probably……

"Hey….. where IS Aunt Petunia," he wondered to himself. "She should be cooing over Dudley right now and looking hatefully at me," he thought. His curiosity got the better of him as he looked up and around the room to see where she was.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU…BOY!" Uncle Vernon roared. Wow an all time record for 'how deep CAN that shade of purple get' Harry thought to himself as Uncle Vernon growled a litany of insults in his face spraying most of it on his glasses. 

Just then Aunt Petunia walked into the room and went to the window. It threw Uncle Vernon off his rant and the silence that filled the room was almost deafening. Dudley's mouth hung open like a cow's in mid-chew. Harry just looked at her curiously. He didn't know what was going on but maybe he could figure it out before he had to go back to school.


	3. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

"Petunia…."

Vernon's voice was cold and hard behind her as he stood in the 

doorway. He walked up and gripped her shoulder as she just stared out the window 

and sighed indifferently. He released his grip when she didn't turn as she 

always did. He cleared his throat and turned his back to her. 

"You weren't being efficient downstairs, Petunia. I want to know what the 

problem was. Why Dudley was practically bursting at the seams for you to see him 

in his new uniform—god knows we paid enough for the alterations—and you walked 

byas if you didn't even see him. The eggs were cold and the coffee burnt. Now 

EXPLAIN."

"Leave me alone." she whispered. She clutched her hand at the base 

of her throat and closed her eyes. It would take every last bit of her control to keep herself calm.

"Please Vernon," she pleaded silently, "don't push me."

"No. I am late to work so I can figure out what's going on, now I want an explanation, damn it. It takes a lot of money to keep you and our son in the comfort you are used to. YOU'RE wasting that money by wasting my time."

Petunia felt her control slip as the thought "Damn you Vernon not even this one time" flew through her mind.

She turned to him and popped the blotchy red face above the sickening bright tie that seemed to be too tight. His face contorted nastily by the impact.

"You are a very simple man Vernon so let me put this in terms you understand. I stay home because YOU want me to. I do what YOU want me to do. And don't you even dare accuse me of not seeing my son. Do you even know what size he is or that he's horrid? Of course you don't."

"Ah, EXCUSE me" she said as he triedto cut her off, "I was saying something and if you ever hear me once it will be now. 

"You hide behind your stupid newspaper and in your work and never ONCE have you asked me if something was bothering me unless it affected you in a direct way, nor have you noticed that Dudley is in need of discipline. Now I'm telling you to leave me alone unless you want the truth about what is bothering me about my mediocre life, my simple minded husband or my horrid little boy. Now get…out…"

"Right then" he said looking flustered, "I'll… uhh… be home around eight. Roast beef will be adequate. Make sure the potatoes aren't too lumpy. He paused at the doorway as if trying to decide to kiss her goodbye, thought better of it, and rushed away.

Some things would never change. But she had made her decision long ago. And she knew now more than anyone that she had to see it through.


	4. Chapter 3

"I will show them," he whispered to himself. "No. I will show HER. The demon that plagues my priest of a plan to rule again. I showed her once and I will show her again why she should have stayed by my side."  
  
A low smooth voice broke through his thoughts "Begging your pardon, Master, but you dismissed her if we are thinking of the same flower you ripped out of your garden of followers."  
  
His still weak form seemed to draw up at the remark and the tension between the two grew thick. He turned slowly like a cat about to pounce and instead offered him some brandy in a blood red tumbler. The room they now occupied was dank with the smell of decay and the rich aroma of the first fire he had cast in what seemed like an eternity. It had flashed brighter with his temper but softened once again as he regained his precious control.  
  
"I wasn't expecting a visitor. Let alone you. Need I mention that you've failed me again and again. I may be weak but give me just cause why I shouldn't kill you right now."  
  
"Well, well" said the stranger standing at the right hand of Voldermort's dark wing-back chair. "Still a little miffed at me, eh, Tom. I have followed you all these years and, as you well know, there aren't many of us left." He leaned down and placed his mouth next to Voldermort's ear "So you might want to nix killing off some of your more active supporters until you have more,…Master.  
  
A ball of red fire burst into being in his palm and was mirrored in the dark pools of hate and anger of his eyes. The slash above his eye, one may consider an eyebrow, rose.  
  
"Without your wand? Tom, you would barely burn the hairs off my arm let alone punish me as I aptly deserve. Allow a humble servant to offer news of his Master's Flower as penance for my grievous act of insolence. You need to save your strength for the Day of Darkness anyways and may postpone my punishment until then. "  
  
With a twist of his wrist the ball of fire vanished and he laid his hands gently within the folds of his robe.  
  
"As you wish. But I want you to remember your son. So close to Harry. It might be hard to get one without the other. You would take care to remember that."  
  
"MY son close to the Potter boy? You must be mad! Begging your pardon Master but the two are as sworn enemies as you and the first Potter boy. He will soon be a follower of yours. I raised him well."  
  
"Why yes you did. He has your hair you know. And your atrocious air of aristocracy. See to it the boy keeps an eye on the Potter boy. He is the key in all this. I may not be able to get in the castle in person but maybe having one of ours in there will be to our advantage. Make sure he does a good job in this for his 'relationship' with the Potter boy will dictate his fate and yours as well. Now what of Petunia."  
  
"Yes, Master," the stranger intoned properly chastised and afraid for his only heir.  
  
"Something is waking in her. There are nights where she tosses and turns, mumbles, and wakes up as if in a fright…."  
  
"But Muggles do that, you fool. Is that all you have gained for me in your watchings of her? Is that it?"  
  
"Master I beg your pardon again. If you remember, she is not of Muggle blood. The one thing that could have kept her in the wizarding world were her dreams; her one magical connection."  
  
He seemed to think it over and sighed.  
  
"You are right. Go on."  
  
"Well it seems she has been dreaming of you. Calling out your name. After finding out her lack of magical ability and your consequential deserting her she swore off her dreams, swore she would be normal and be happy about it. There's no telling what she is dreaming and what those dreams could mean to us. And there's more. Generally speaking after leaving the wizarding community she seemed to adjust well to the Muggle form of life even held it dear. Seems that's changing. Her attitude is changing. Instead of being the usual, easy to manipulate Petunia she's getting some spunk of her own. Walloped the hell out of that Muggle husband of hers just this morning, seems absorbed in a world all her own. If you act now you may be able to pull her back to us; give us an advantage the others could never foretell."  
  
"Very well. I may not kill you after all. Have the Dream Powder prepared. I will go to my Petunia tonight."  
  
"Yes, Master." 


End file.
